On the Road to Valdosta--Chapter Four--The Decision

In the midst of us running here and yon, there was another factor: whether or not to leave Berryville.  As I begin this I desire to make one thing absolutely clear: we love the people at Berryville.  First of all, I can think of no elders anywhere for whom I have greater respect.  They are godly men who earnestly desire to see the gospel spread and unity maintained within the church.  As an example, several years ago they took on the sole responsibility for a work in Costa Rica.  They have made numerous trips down there to work with the church, and have brought various members of the church there up to the States for medical treatments, visits, etc.  Second, there was no one there with whom we had the least bit of animosity: we love them all.  Of course, in any group, there are going to be some to whom you are closer than others.  Clay and Wanda Bozarth probably topped that list.  Rusty and Tiffany, Ken and Debbie, Mike and Patsy, Kevin and Shelley, and Glenn and Dena were high up there, too.  (Clay and Glenn were very instrumental in helping me get my truck up and running, but that's a different story.)

For those who don't really, really know us, I probably need to back up a bit for you to fully understand.  From 1977 until I graduated high school, I never really left the hills.  We were dairy farmers, and that sort of tied us down.  I'll never forget the Christmas morning that I asked my dad why he had to go milk.  His reply: "Son, those cows don't know that it's Christmas."  For a vacation, we might run over to Norfork for a day trip once a year.  Or not.  The few times we all loaded up and went somewhere, it was to visit family.  I never recall having gone somewhere just to have gone.  In high school and college, I traveled quite a bit.  I was a state officer in the Missouri FFA in '86-87, then worked with the admissions department at Crowley's Ridge College the year after that, but even that was all business.  In '93 when I began working for Air Evac, I flew all over Missouri, Arkansas, Kansas, Illinois, Michigan, even went to San Diego once, but again, that was all business.  Really, Thayer (population 2,000) and Oregon County (population 10,000) were all that I knew.  So the decision to move to Memphis and go to preaching school was not an easy one.  And when that time was up, I wanted back in the hills.

Enter Berryville.  Berryville is in the northwest corner of the state of Arkansas.  It is about an hour east of Fayetteville, an hour south of Branson, and about 3 hours west of Thayer.  Close enough to stuff without being too close.  Berryville's population is about 3,500, with a strong influence on agriculture.  There's a McDonald's (to which much of the congregation would go after church every Sunday evening), a Wal-Mart (it's only an hour from Bentonville, so it was a nice one), a KFC, a Pizza Hut, a Subway, a Sonic, a Burger King...and not much else.  A nice, quiet little town nestled in the hills.

I could go on about the town, but that wouldn't accomplish what I'm trying to do here.  I'm trying to get us to Valdosta.  So, where was I?  Oh, yes.  We had gone to Valdosta, gone to Lake Butler, and gone to Lithia Springs.  But the decision to leave wasn't exactly an easy one.  The reasons we decided to leave aren't exactly easy to explain.  Initially, there was a financial issue, but then I talked with the elders there, and they offered us a generous raise to stay.  But we decided to leave anyway.  I bring this up to illustrate that the decision to move wasn't about money.

There were, however, two main reasons.  First, it just never really felt like "home."  I am of the opinion that the reason for that was that it was much like where we had grown up, but just different enough for us not to be able to adjust to it.  And even though Berryville was nearly twice the size of Thayer, it just felt smaller.  Second, our phone never rang.  I believe that is pretty self-explanatory, but let me explain it anyway.  These really are wonderful people, but we were outsiders.  (Seriously, you would be hard pressed to find anywhere a more clannish community than Carroll County, Arkansas.)  We loved the congregation, they loved us, but they all had their circles of friends and families and we just didn't really blend in to any of them.  Part of this goes back to the preacher who was there before us, I think.  He just didn't get out much, evidently, and they were just sort of used to that.  And since we're just not the sort of folks to force ourselves on others, they were content to leave us on the outside.  It was not uncommon to go an entire week without a phone call from anyone in the congregation.  It is kind of hard to feel really needed in a situation like that.  We got a lot of good memories there, a lot of wonderful friendships there, and a Shelby there, but it was time to go.

I want to add this.  There is one particular thing that I really, really miss about the building there: the office.  It was small and drafty, but had the most incredible view of the ridge across the river.  Many was the time I caught myself just staring across that valley toward Eureka Springs.  There was nothing more beautiful than watching a snow shower march eastward across that valley.

One thing before I quit chapter four.  Bill Fort (one of the elders at Berryville), should you happen to read this, I want you to know that I listened carefully to the advice you gave me before we headed down here.  (If you don't remember, it was, "Stay away from ___.")  Your assessment of the local conditions was right on the money, and a decade does not seemed to have changed it at all.  I have always kept that little piece of advice in the back of my mind and have first-hand experience to testify to its veracity.  Thanks.